This season, yellow is the new black, patent leather shoes are a must, but – please! – “third-world” babies are not a new accessory.

I’ve been disgusted by the response people continue to have about actress Angelina Jolie’s international adoptions.

The star of the movie “Tomb Raider” is called “womb raider” on blogs. Tabloid-TV shows allow snarky critics to blather on about it being a quest for publicity. Even respectable newspapers have run stories quoting people who raise questions about her motives.

Two weeks ago, Jolie adopted a 3 1/2-year-old boy from Vietnam whom she named Pax Thien. He’s her fourth child and I have no doubt she’ll love him as her own.

While I don’t usually concern myself with celebrity gossip, the rise of celebrity magazines and news programs – and the way such gossip has crept into the evening news – has made me think about the implications that celebrity adoptions have on the public.

In a Hollywood-crazed society, adoptions in Africa and Asia by stars such as Meg Ryan, Madonna, and Jolie are bound to have an effect on what people think of adoption, especially as it relates to adopting children of color.

It takes more than a handful of celebrities to create a trend. I have a hard time believing any of these women adopted for notoriety. Like Madonna needs media exposure.

The topic is sensationalized partly because it centers on color. If these were children from poor European countries such as Russia or the Ukraine would there be as much hoopla? I doubt it.

Still, one of the main criticisms being hurled at these celebrities is they’re adopting dark-skinned children because it’s not “in” to get a white-skinned baby. They say those stars should take in American children.

I don’t think we should get caught up in that sort of debate. A child in need of a loving home is a child, regardless of where on the planet she was born.

By becoming the mother of a Cambodian boy (Maddox), an Ethiopian girl (Zahara), and, now, Pax, Jolie is helping to diminish the stigma that’s attached to children of color from poverty-stricken countries. It’s helped call attention to the plight of 14 million orphans in Africa whose parents have died of AIDS.

Any woman who adopts a child of another culture will have to deal with stares, stupid questions and with helping the child overcome feelings of cultural isolation. But these are not insurmountable problems and, frankly, it’s a better life than remaining in an orphanage.

Really, it wouldn’t be as big of an issue if the rest of us learned to feel comfortable with mixed-ethnicity families. (I refrain from using the term “race” because we’re all from the same race: human.)

It’s ironic that people living in one of the most diverse countries on the planet continue to struggle with diversity.

So many of us live segregated lives that impede our ability to understand each other.

The fortunate few live in diverse neighborhoods. The rest of us are wedged in enclaves of people who are just like us. (I’m no exception. In my neighborhood I can count on one hand the number of black, Latino and Asian faces I see. And it’s rare to see anyone older than 70. My disclaimer: I had no idea it would be like this when I moved to LoDo.)

For some these separate-and-unequal lives are a choice; for others it’s because they have no other choice. Income plays a huge role in determining where we can and can’t live.

What we lose out on is the ability to connect with people of other cultures and to see the humanity of others who are different than us. Our comfort zones become a cocoon that serves as more of a trap than a sanctuary.

And it’s from that disadvantage point that the critics judge those who dare go outside of their comfort zones. As long as it’s a relationship of love, a white mom with a dark-skinned baby, or the reverse, is a beautiful thing.

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